Laughter and Tears
by AniHope
Summary: Ron and Hermione have a fight. Will Hermione ever speak to Ron again? What will Ron do to make amends? And what will he discover in the process? One-shot, fluffy, RH (duh)


A/N Okay, this is just a short little one-shot fluff fic. I was in a fluffy mood, and... well you know. If you don't like fluff ...well, I'm not quite sure why you're reading this. Anyway, enjoy! Disclaimer: I own nothing. At all. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling. Please don't sue me.  
  
It was Wednesday night, and Ron and Hermione were fighting again. Harry had lost track of what it was about. He was doing his best to tune them out and concentrate on his Potions homework. He vaguely registered that they were yelling something about the Dark Lord. And then Ron said it.  
"Well, I hope he attacks you next! After all you are a –" He stopped dead, aghast at what he'd been about to say. His face paled drastically from the bright red it had been just moments before, to almost white.  
Harry stared, his Potions homework forgotten. He saw on Hermione's face, a brief flash of pain and hurt, and then her face closed. She stared at Ron for a moment, then wheeled around and walked up the stairs to the girl's dormitories. It was obvious that it was taking every ounce of strength she had in her to keep her face so still, and walk so calmly.  
Then she was gone and a deafening silence filled the common room. After a moment, people started talking again, turning every once in a while to look at Ron, usually with a glare. Ron just stood as if frozen in time. Finally he whispered, "What have I done? Did that really just happen?"  
He turned, with an effort, to stare at Harry. Harry opened his mouth, unsure of what to say. Ron blinked rapidly, and put a hand to his forehead. "I gotta go to bed," he mumbled, and headed quickly for the boy's dormitories.  
Harry stared blankly for a while at his Potion's homework, but there was no point in trying to finish it now. He sighed and headed for bed.  
  
Hermione didn't speak to Ron for the rest of the week. She refused to even look at him. She stopped walking to classes with him and Harry, and she ate with Lavender and Parvati. She helped Neville extensively with his homework, and she went to bed early. By lunch time on Saturday, Ron was one step away from either depression or panic.  
"What if she never speaks to me again?" He moaned to Harry. "What'll I do?" He stared at his untouched food. "I don't think I can take this much longer."  
"Well," started Harry cautiously, "have you tried apologizing?"  
"How can I," Ron wanted to know, "when she won't let me near enough to say a word?" He set his forehead down on the table, not gently, and mumbled, "I'm such an idiot."  
Harry tried not to smile. "I'm sure you can think of some way to get her to hear you. Maybe you could write her."  
Ron sighed. "She wouldn't read it." But he was fairly distracted and lost in thought for the rest of the day.  
  
Hermione had taken to getting up early, before anyone else, to get out of walking with Ron. So, on Monday morning, he got up even earlier, found a piece of parchment, and wrote quickly: I'm sorry.  
He slipped it under the cover of her Arithmancy book, and hid in a corner on the other side of the common room, to wait.  
When Hermione came down, she walked briskly to the table to get her things. As she picked up the Arithmancy book, the slip of parchment fell out, and onto the table. Hermione frowned. She reached down to pick it up, and stared at the message written on it. She looked quickly around the room, but didn't see Ron hidden in the shadows. Her jaw tightened, and she quickly tossed the paper in the fireplace, and left.  
  
The next morning, a new paper floated out of Hermione's textbook, reading: I'm an idiot. She gave a rueful smile, and whispered, "Yes, Ron Weasley, you are." Again, she threw it in the fire.  
On Wednesday, she opened the book cautiously, expecting a message this time. I hate my life without you. Her hard gaze softened a bit, and she looked at it for a long while before letting it burn.  
On Thursday, the message read: Please forgive me. She sighed, and started to toss into the fireplace, but hesitated. She tried again, but couldn't seem to make herself do it. Finally, she slipped the parchment into her bag, and left the room. That day, in the hall, when Ron saw Hermione start to come toward them, he muttered to Harry that he was going to the bathroom, and hurried away. Somehow, he felt there was still something he needed to say that he couldn't in person.  
On Friday morning, when he sat down to write the message, he wasn't sure what it was he wanted to say. He closed his eyes and thought about Hermione. His hand started to move on the paper as if with its own will. He stopped and stared at what he'd written. I love you. Was it true? He thought for a long while. Yes. Yes it was. He suddenly felt slightly queasy. He loved Hermione. Why hadn't he realized it before?  
The stairs creaked, and Ron was jolted back to the present. He quickly stuck the parchment in the book, and rushed to his corner. Hermione came down the stairs and approached the table. Ron found that his heart was pounding in his chest, hindering his breathing. Why had he actually left the paper for her to find? How could this possibly help? What if it made matters worse?  
Hermione stared at the book for a moment, then took a deep breath and lifted the cover. She picked up the paper and stared, without moving. She didn't seem to be breathing either. She sank backwards onto the couch, her eyes filled with something new. Something like ...joy. Real joy.  
It seemed Ron could only hear the blood rushing in his veins, and his pounding heart. He didn't seem to be in control of his body as he stood up and walked part way across the room. Hermione turned to stare at him, eyes wide, and slowly stood. Ron struggled to speak. "Hermione," he said almost in a whisper, but she could hear, "I – I didn't mean it." She frowned, confused, almost hurt. "What I said last week I mean." He stopped briefly then plunged on. "If You-Know-Who ever came near you, I'd do everything in my power to keep him from hurting you." He stepped forward. "I do love you, and I'm sorry it took me so long to realize it."  
She took a deep shuddering breath and smiled, her eyes shining. "I love you too, Ron." His face brightened, and he smiled back. In the next moment, they were in each other's arms. Their lips met, and after a moment they discovered they both had tears running down their cheeks. They started to laugh, joyously, hilariously, holding onto each other as if for dear life. They were stilling sobbing with laughter when the rest of the students came down, but they were past caring. 


End file.
